


I Want You To Catch Me Like a Cold

by mamajules



Category: The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, also jude and connor are kind of ooc, angst everywhere, but like?????????????????, i watched grease and this is happening now, theyre older here deal w/ it, this is for anon who called me the queen of fluffy fics, watch me now son
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4442543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamajules/pseuds/mamajules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>jude really didn't need any more drama in his life. but connor stevens is swearing to shape up and maybe jude could use a man.</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>jude is an assistant director in his senior year of high school. aside from losing his best friend, he now has an obnoxious danny zuko named connor to deal with. everyone else is there too, and they tend to sing a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> i watched grease with my dad and everything spiraled downwards. gavin macintosh would be a great danny zuko and somebody needed to write sassy, angst written director jude sooooo.   
> note that they're both around 17 here and definitely matured a bit so their characters may be a bit off from how they're captured in the show now.  
> i dedicate this whole thing to the anon who told me i was giving them cavities with all my fluffy fics.  
> this will give you cavities, but it'll also break your jaw.  
> you're welcome.  
> lots of love as always my babies <33

From where Jude was standing, Anchor Beach’s auditorium was a godsend. Fifteen minutes prior, he’d been going through a hellish first day, and now he was looking out over the happiest place on Earth.

He closed his eyes and thought back to his first production. Jude was barely even a freshman when he’d been assigned his first (and only) role as an extra in _Hairspray._ He’d hardly even paid much attention to the musical itself; what was going on backstage fascinated him much more. That fact led to the director constantly shouting his name when he missed a step or forgot his line. Yes, only one line, he really wasn’t the best actor. 

Jude could tell, though, what did make a good actor. He took mental notes on every other cast member, what they could improve on and what they needed to change in order to make everything immaculate. So directly after the winter musical had finished, he marched up to the director and asked for a spot as an assistant. Of course, Ms. Mayes laughed uproariously in his face and informed him that it didn’t work like that.

Jude spent the next eight weeks before the spring musical busting his ass. He didn’t want to work in tech or design costumes, he wanted to produce something breathtaking. He seldom left Ms. Mayes side after school, desperately trying to prove he could help. Three weeks in, she warmed up to the idea and began teaching him. After deeming Jude’s acting subpar, Ms. Mayes gave a lengthy lecture about having to know the ways before teaching them. So aside from general directing, they began working at his own skills. By the first wave of auditions for _The Sound of Music_ , Jude was officially an assistant director and an above average performer. His confidence levels had skyrocketed and he’d finally found himself in a community. 

Jude opened his eyes and felt a smile grow on his face. He hadn’t been in the auditorium since the final performance of _Romeo and Juliet_ back in May. Immediately after his final class, he’d bolted to the stage, opened the curtains, flipped on the lights, and took in the dusty red chairs. The whole room smelled of mothballs and Febreeze, arguably Jude’s favorite scent in the world. 

Taylor and Ms. Mayes would be there within the next few minutes, so he cherished the time alone. 

The last production was Jude’s least favorite they’d done yet. Not to be a stereotype, but he preferred big things. Shows that went out with a bang and left the crowd wishing for more were his cup of tea. _Romeo and Juliet_ was a superb show, the cast was nothing short of amazing and there was a full house every single night. But it lacked luster and had an abundance of death scenes. For this year’s show he was desperate for something flashy, something he could make unforgettable.

Jude was newly a senior, and more than anything he feared being forgotten after he got his diploma.

“Jude, honey, how was your summer?” A voice saved him from his typical anxious thoughts. He turned with a big smile into Ms. Mayes’ embrace. 

“Boring, Moms made us go visit Grandma in Florida.” Jude groaned, stepping back. 

Ramona Mayes was a petite woman, to put it simply. For forty seven, she was extremely young looking. She had lively curls that she either kept in a head scarf or a bun. 

“When my hair is down, my mind goes to mush.” She once told Jude when he questioned it. That answer really only left him with more questions, but he knew better than to pry further.

Ms. Mayes’ eyes were probably Jude’s favorite feature. They were a light brown, almost honey gold color with all different hues. When she instructed, they got even brighter, and Jude adored it. Her skin was almost the same shade as his mama’s, maybe a bit richer. Jude barely graced five foot eight, but still towered over her.

“Jude that sounds far from boring, Florida is lovely.” Ms Mayes rolled her eyes, setting her bag down on the stage. 

Jude shook his head, “Not from my grandmother’s retirement community.” 

“Our elders are wise, darling, appreciate them.” She said softly and began rummaging through her bag.

The door at the front of the auditorium slammed and Taylor entered. As she came closer, Jude noticed a tinge of ruddiness blotching her face. 

“Did you run a marathon?” Jude smirked. Of course she didn’t. Taylor didn't run, period. God forbid run a _marathon_.

Taylor smacked his arm, “Shut up, I went to get your gross sparkling water and then ran here to be on time.” She handed him a can of peach flavored tonic water before cracking open her own can of Diet Coke. 

“Oh love, I missed you so.” Ms. Mayes pulled taylor into a hug, kissing her cheek. 

Taylor returned the hug, handing her a can of Diet Coke as well. 

Jude sat on the stage and opened his backpack, adding a quick, “That drink is going to kill you both.” 

Ms. Mayes snorted, “Jude, if God was going to take me he would’ve done it by now.”

The two ladies sat next to him on the floor. That was how most meetings went, easy and unofficial. 

Taylor’s hair was yanked back into a painfully tight looking ponytail, so she either must’ve been too tired to do her hair or the blistering heat had become unbearable. The latter was more likely, as Taylor scarcely ever got lazy with her hair.

Jude swore he knew her better than himself sometimes. They’d met in sixth grade when Jude had first started at Anchor Beach. She was wild, loud, and a tad overbearing. So whatever she did, Jude usually was swept into as well. It was actually Taylor who convinced Jude to start theater in ninth grade, so he was extremely thankful for her presence as an actress and as his best friend.

The three ended up on their backs, pitching musical ideas. Jude immediately shot down anything Shakespeare. Ms. Mayes said he didn’t appreciate the classics, he said he didn’t appreciate the boring.

“Oh my stars, I almost forgot!” She sat up quickly, or as fast as a middle aged woman could.

Ms. Mayes continued, “I spoke to Lena, and this year we’re doing a fall musical.” 

Jude sat up next, “But why?”

“I was thinking we could enter that competition they do with all the charter schools near us. Our kids have a real chance.” She said, clapping her hands together. If she had anything, it was enthusiasm. 

Taylor and Jude nodded, she was right. Anchor Beach was bursting at the seams with talent.

“So auditions need to be by the end of this month, maybe even within the next two weeks.” Ms. Mayes had an air of seriousness to her voice. 

“Okay,” Jude began, picking at a leftover piece of tape on the ground, “But we need a musical first.”

Both directors hated repeating anything within the past couple of years, but there weren’t many good options left. 

“Oh my God, I have it.” Taylor perked up, wide eyed. She grinned, “We should totally do Grease.”

Ms. Mayes exclaimed, “Ooh sugar that’s perfect!” She clapped frantically again, all notes of solemnity forgotten from her voice.

Jude’s mind burst suddenly. _Grease_ was wonderful, maybe a bit overdone, but wonderful nonetheless. Like something directly out of Christmas tales from his childhood, he saw visions of T-Birds and Pink Ladies dancing in his head. Danny Zuko with a single piece of gelled black hair falling in his face, Sandy with a flowing skirt and big smile. He envisioned dance numbers and loud scenes. Jude pictured a moving _There Are Worse Things I Could Do_ and a lively _We Go Together_. Before even having the time to plan, he had everything dead set in his mind. Edits and cuts could wait for the actual show, his mind needed time to run eagerly before being contained.

He even pictured most of the cast already. Taylor would be Sandy, no doubt. She had the charm and the innocence. Daria could cast a perfect Rizzo. Aaron would be Danny, for sure. He had the looks, the voice, and the carelessness. 

Jude loved his friends and cast members. Maybe he was a little overly passionate about the theater, but it was all for good reason. And with the production being constructed so soon, it would provide as a perfect start to his senior year. God, he couldn’t wait for auditions.

 

//

 

The week was, bluntly stated, a drag. There were consistent meetings with Ms. Mayes and the set crew after classes. Everyone’s main concern was the car and what on Earth they would do, considering that a flying Ford De Luxe was out of the question. They had until the end of November to figure it out, though, and that was plenty of time. In his classes, it was nothing but general beginning of the year stuff. Well, that and bonus you-aren’t-kids-anymore-and-college-won’t-be-like-this-so-get-ready scares. 

Jude was in the library printing scripts with Aaron. It was shying seven in the morning, but Aaron had soccer after school, so they had to work then. Jude personally thought it ridiculous that the soccer team had practice on a Friday, but then he remembered all the extended practices he’d scheduled before that ended in angry parents demanding their children be released so..

Aaron was his best guy friend, hands down. They were inseparable for the greater half of their high school years, up until last winter when his dad convinced him to join the soccer team. Of course, he was brilliant and of course his new team became a distraction from the drama club and Jude.

He’d bulked out, gotten contacts (he swore it was for the game, Jude begged to differ), and cut his mop-like curls into a quiff. Once in a blue moon, he grew out stubble, which Jude would scoff at and make him shave.

“There’s this new kid who tried out for the team, seems like your type.” Aaron coughed slightly, breaking the silence.

Jude cocked an eyebrow. Since Aaron had broken up with Daria, his girlfriend of two years, for some girl in his debate class he’d been trying to set Jude up. Aaron seemed to think Jude was into lanky, artsy boys (he kind of was, but that was beside the point)

“Hmm..” Jude hummed, taking another sheet from the printer.

“He’s pretty muscular, good face and hair. He’s new this year.” Aaron continued, stapling another script together.

Jude nodded, “Did he make the team?”

Aaron shook his head, “Nah, his footwork needed improving. Plus he’s in our grade, so there wasn’t much point in trying to work on that.”

Jude nodded again, lacking any knowledge on what he meant by that. He missed when Aaron spoke about stage positioning and inside jokes from rehearsal, but those days were gone. Now he talked about things like being offsides and the new annoying goalkeeper.

He paid little attention to the description of the boy. Jude was strictly against dating during shows and he was almost always doing a production, so there wasn’t much of a point.

Aaron’s phone buzzed from where it sat on the copy machine. 

“Shit, man, it’s Willa.” Aaron read through the text, placing the script down.

Jude rolled his eyes, “Go. We’re done anyways. But don’t forget the first auditions are tomorrow.” 

Aaron didn't respond, just sent a tight grin in Jude’s direction and left the library. Jude stacked all the scripts together and placed them in his backpack.

If he hurried, he might be able to sneak a peak at the costumes and set before class.

 

//

 

Jude swore to every God he didn’t believe in that if he was straight, he would be all over Daria.

She was beautiful, she was proficient, and most everyone in the school adored her.

But Jude was not straight, he was very gay. So that caused a couple of problems.

It was noon on Saturday, and soon enough the auditions would be coming to a close. As predicted, Taylor was a shoe-in for Sandy. She sang _All That Jazz_ and ran the lines without flaw. Daria was no doubt their Rizzo, and Tanner was going to be a brilliant Kenickie. The only spots that were undetermined were Danny and Cha-Cha. As soon as Aaron and Eppie showed up, though, the cast would be complete. 

At that moment, he and Ms. Mayes were listening to an eighth grader belt out _Tomorrow_ from _Annie_. Jude was struggling to refrain from flat out cringing at her notes and nasally tones. She was far from ready to perform, but then again even Jude had made it in freshman year and he was _heinous._ The girl had an abundance of lively blonde curls that sprung up whenever she awkwardly sashayed across the stage. It was a sight to see, for sure. She was auditioning for Sandy, which came as a shock considering the lead roles almost always went to seniors (that was just common knowledge).

“Thank you for auditioning, honey.” Ms. Mayes sent the girl off with a smile that could cure cancer and cause cavities. The girl smiled back, practically skipped off the stage and squealed with another girl who’d auditioned as Frenchy.

Jude pulled out his phone and checked the time. Auditions ended in twenty seven minutes and Aaron hadn’t even responded to Jude’s text. Generally, Aaron was one of the first to audition so he and Jude could make snide comments at the worst of the worst (only to be scolded by Ms. Mayes) and mentally assign roles to the best of the best (also to be scolded by Ms. Mayes who deemed talking in rehearsals “inappropriate”).

Before he could ask where the hell Aaron was, another boy was walking on stage.

Jude’s heart may or may not have stuttered for a moment.

He was cute, no questions asked. The guy had a lopsided grin decorating his face and a script nervously clutched in one hand, in the other he was tousling his blonde hair.

“Hi, darling!” Ms. Mayes smiled up at him, pulling her bun tighter and tucking a strand behind her ear.

The boy looked nervous, his eyes grew impossibly wide at being addressed.

“Hey, uh, I’m Connor Stevens.” He waved nimbly.

Aw, a newbie. Jude loved new theater kids, with their quivering hands and big dreams. This one in particular was especially cute. He couldn't be more than a sophomore, nobody older than that could possibly have literal bambi eyes.

He toed at a piece of tape marking center stage, “I’m a senior this year and I’m auditioning for the role of Danny.”

Jude coughed up some of his water. A _senior?_ The role of Danny?

Connor’s face fell at that. The boy should’ve possessed more confidence, he was hot and seemed nice enough. 

“Is this your first show?” Jude questioned, crossing one leg over the other and tapping his clipboard. He was taking his director form, which he only used on people who he wanted to intimidate. 

“No, I was the lead in most of the shows at my old school.” Connor smiled. Proving Jude wrong, what a little _shit._ Hiding his self confidence, even more of a little shit.

Ms. Mayes snorted softly, composed herself, and asked what Connor would be singing.

When he announced that he would be doing _As Long As You’re Mine_ from _Wicked,_ Jude slumped further into the rough red chair. Not only had he been proved wrong about Connor’s age and skill level, but he would probably be a stunning vocalist as well. With the way his audition was going, Connor would also be a great actor and dancer. That would give Aaron competition, of course, but there was very little reason to fret. He was Danny Zuko, end of discussion, no matter what the Connor kid brought to the table.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Jude said.

The piano struck up.

“Kiss me too fiercely, hold me too tight,” Connor delivered the opening lines.

Jude was fucked, because of course he had a rich but theatrical voice. Of course he sounded like the perfect Danny Zuko.

And of course, his smile glinted in the goddamn stage lights. Of course he was gorgeous and passionate and Daria was fanning herself from a couple seats down.

Of course he read his lines perfectly, of course he could dance.

Of-fucking-course Aaron didn't show up by twelve thirty.

And because the universe was plotting against Jude, when he brought up Aaron’s absence of course Ms. Mayes dropped her jaw and said, “Honey, didn't he tell you? He’s not doing the musicals this year.”

Of course.


	2. chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> toxic came on spotify and i'm sorry

Maybe Jude was exaggerating when he stomped out of the auditorium, even just in the slightest. But he was mad, so mad, that he could barely see straight. Once again, maybe an exaggeration, but he was still pissed off.

Aaron wasn’t doing the play. Aaron, every lead male role for the past two shows, wasn't even going to have a role in this one. Seemingly without reason, too, which only added kindling to the metaphorical fire raging around Jude.

Jude was standing outside in the heat of California in August. His best friend lied to him, and some jackass was going to get the role of Danny. He was usually a mellow person, he tried to stay out of trouble and keep his head level, but sometimes it was near impossible to do so. 

After his siblings had begun their studies at various colleges and universities, Jude was left an only child. The Adams Foster house tended to get lonely, but it also meant that Jude was the recipient of his own car. He would never complain about that. In the midst of his rampage, he seemed to have forgotten that he was Taylor’s ride, so when she came bustling towards his Honda, Jude slammed on breaks. Taylor swung open the passenger door with a scowl, tossing her bag into the backseat.

“What’s wrong with you?” Taylor questioned as soon as they were pulling out of the parking lot.

Jude gripped the steering wheel tighter, staring straight ahead. “Aaron.” He muttered

Taylor looked over and said, “What’d he do?”

“He’s not doing Grease, Taylor. Ms. Mayes told me.” Jude sighed. He hated saying that, it felt too foreign.

Taylor coughed and pulled out her phone.

“Did you hear me?” Jude asked, looking over at her. Taylor looked up for a second before averting her eyes again.

“Yeah, I heard you Jude. But,” Taylor paused, plastering on a painfully strained smile, “I kind of already knew.”

 Jude threw his head back against the seat. ‘Jesus Christ,” he thought, “Why did literally everyone know before me?’

He began questioning very out of reach theories. Maybe Aaron secretly loathed him and couldn't stand to be around him. Maybe it was like something out of a soap opera and Willa was restricting him from seeing Jude, which was very improbable seeing as they were pretty good friends and that made no sense.

They pulled onto the highway in utter silence. It was ridiculous for Jude to be mad at Taylor for not telling him sooner, but then again, it was also ridiculous for Aaron not to do the play. 

“He told Ms. Mayes and I on Wednesday.” Taylor stated, waiting for Jude to say something. When he didn’t, she continued. “He didn’t really say why, though. And he said he wanted to tell you separately. I just assumed he would do it before auditions.”

“Well he didn’t and now I’m doing the last productions at this school without my best friend.” Jude said back.

Taylor snorted, “Ouch.”

Jude studied her face to see if she was being serious. “Taylor, I’m sorry.” He sighed.

“I get you’re upset Jude, but this isn’t my fault.” She said.

Jude nodded, “I know, I just need to talk to him.”

He drove into Taylor’s driveway and stopped to let her out.  

“Good luck, okay?” She smiled softly, grabbing her bag and shutting the door.

Jude sat for a moment with his face in his palms. Helping direct the show was his favorite thing in the world, but he felt like everything was on a downward spiral. Aaron’s absence shouldn't have been such a massive roadblock, but it was. Jude was so, so overwhelmed by everything. The first week of school had just ended and he _still_ had to meet with Ms. Mayes before Monday to discuss roles.

His back began to feel oddly stiff and the car became just a bit more stuffy as he backed out of Taylor’s driveway. The Earth seemed off balance for absolutely no reason and he felt a headache being sprung upon him.

Aaron’s house was on the street next to Taylor’s and Jude needed clarification on why the hell he was making stupid decisions, so he made a sharp right turn and drove towards the familiar brick house. Aaron’s extremely worn truck was in the garage, so Jude climbed out of his vehicle and knocked on the door.

Knocking was absurd at that point. Jude had been walking in and out of Aaron’s yellow front door for years, he’d even gone noseblind to the smell of cat that lingered throughout the house.

This time seemed to be more formal, though. This time Jude knocked twice and waited with his hands clasped in front of him. Aaron’s mother, Christa, told Jude two years previous that the house was essentially his too. Yet, there he was, asking to be let into what felt like his own home.

It was Christa who answered the door, housecoat draped over her slim frame and a perplexed look on her face.

“Jude, did you just knock?” She asked, closing her book and propping one hand on her hip.

“Uh, yes’m.” He mumbled, suddenly preoccupied with the doormat.

She let out a disconcerted sigh, “Ma’am? Okay Jude, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Jude said. Christa opened her mouth to say something, so he rushed his words, “Is Aaron here?”

She pursed her lips together and nodded, letting Jude inside. “He’s in the sunroom.” She said, returning to her chair in the living room.

Jude made his way to the back of the house towards the tiny pink sunroom. It was the nicest place in the house and usually where he and Aaron slept. There was a TV and a mini fridge, plus it led to the pool. Jude hadn't seen it in weeks, which made him uneasy when he found Aaron lounging in the hammock. A soccer game was playing on TV and he seemed to be very intrigued by it. 

Never had Jude been one for dancing around things, he was more straightforward.

“Why aren't you doing the musical, Aaron?” He asked, trying to maintain an even voice.

Aaron looked up, his eyes glinting in the sun. “Well hey to you too, man.” He said.

Jude’s face stayed impassive, “Please just answer the question.”

Aaron watched him for a couple of seconds, almost as if he wondered if Jude was being serious. He wrangled himself out of the woven hammock and muted the game.  

“First of all, I’m sorry I didn't tell you sooner.” Aaron said, standing in front of him. He dismissed Jude’s ‘yeah, me too.” and continued, “But basically my dad thinks I’ve got a chance at some really good scholarships if I bust my ass off at soccer.” 

Soccer. The reason Aaron missed half the rehearsals for Romeo and Juliet, even though he was fucking Romeo himself. Soccer was the reason Jude and Aaron had hardly anything in common anymore. Soccer caused Jude to barely see his best friend anymore and now, soccer was the reason that amount would shrink even more.

“Listen, can we go upstairs?” Aaron asked.

Jude shook his head, “I’m leaving soon anyways, I just wanted to hear it myself.”

Aaron’s posture sunk a little, and for a moment his younger self shone through. The small, insecure, theater kid that spent every second of his free time playing video games with Jude was present for a fraction of an second. Then, he regained his composure and stood up straight.

“I know you’re mad, Jude, and I'm sorry.” Aaron said.

Jude was almost in disbelief that all he got was a sorry. 

“You’ve gotta understand this is good for me.” Aaron sighed, leaning against the doorframe. 

“I don’t even feel like I know you anymore.” Jude said, which was unlike him. But his world felt peculiar and it was all on Aaron, so he couldn't be bothered to care.

Aaron scoffed, ducking his head again. 

“Maybe you don’t, Jude. Because after I started soccer, you gave up on me.” He said.

 “Gave up, Aaron? Really?” Jude laughed sharply, “You went off and won championships and left me by myself.” He picked at skin on his thumb and met Aaron’s gaze. “I didn't give up on you, you forgot about me.”

Aaron snorted dryly, “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Jude shook his head. “I’m leaving,” He said, “So good luck with everything. Hope it works out.”

He turned on his heel and took long strides to the front door. 

“Jude!” Aaron called after him, pacing through the house. 

Christa looked over her reading glasses, “What’s going on, you two?” 

“Goodbye, Aaron.” Jude glared, opening the door. 

“Have a good day, Christa.” He smiled, shutting it behind him.

For the second time that day he found himself distressed in somebody’s driveway. He drove in silence for a couple of minutes and then decided he needed to occupy himself somehow. Pulling his phone out of the cup holder, he rang Ms. Mayes.

“What’s up, buttercup?” She answered.

“Are you still at school?” Jude asked.

“Yes indeed. I was working on some choreography, why?” Ms. Mayes said.

Jude drove onto the highway, “I’m coming back to the school so we can cast the roles.” 

“Already?” She sounded confused. He confirmed. “Alright, the door’s unlocked.” She hung up.

Jude really didn’t need Aaron. It wasn't necessary to his survival to have him. He would be content with Taylor and Daria. The play would be more than enough to keep his mind away from Aaron. Boys were aggravating anyways and the less Jude had around, the better.

 

//

 

“What about Damon?” Jude suggested, biting the end of his pen. It was a horrible habit, and on many occasions he’d ended up with an ink splattered mouth.

He and Ms. Mayes had ordered a pizza to the school and for the past two hours been debating over who to cast for which role. Sandy was Taylor and Daria was Rizzo, just as predicted. The only role that shocked Jude was Frenchy, who would be played by an eighth grader, Sam.

For the past twenty minutes, they were stumped on who would play Danny.

Ms. Mayes shook her head, “Honey, the obvious choice is Connor.”

“Connor?” Jude snorted. “We’ve never seen his work before.”

 Ms. Mayes raised her eyebrows, “We just saw him audition, Jude.”

He leaned back, “I just can’t see anybody as Danny but Aaron.”

 Ms. Mayes patted his leg, “Baby, you’re gonna go through a lot worse than this. Give the kid a chance.”

 Sure, Connor was really good. He was hot, he had charisma, he was going to make a great Danny. But that didn’t mean he would be better than Aaron could’ve been.

“Fine, cast him.” Jude sat up.

Ms. Mayes squealed and typed something into her laptop. “Oh, this show is gonna be wonderful Jude.”

He smiled back at her. Aaron or no Aaron, Jude would make a show that was going to not only win them first place, but also kick ass.

 

//

 

The next three days leading up to first rehearsals were less than mediocre. They consisted of glares from those who had been cut from the show and glares being shot in Aaron’s direction. Taylor was constantly trying to bond with Connor, and when Jude interrogated her she babbled about “trying to find the chemistry with her love interest”.

With Aaron out of the question and Taylor preoccupied, Jude found himself sharing lunches with Damon, Daria, and Ms. Mayes in the drama room. The mystery of what do about the flying car was still in question and Eppie’s aunt still hadn’t gotten back to them on making the T-Bird and Pink Ladies’ jackets. 

Jude’s moms were in full mama bear mode about the situation with Aaron. Stef kept threatening to go talk some sense into him and Lena was almost always sending him dirty looks in the hallway.

Mariana, who had recently transferred to a college closer to home so she could move back in, said that she was still a teenager in her mind and had no problem ambushing Aaron with a conversation about who had been around longer than anyone else. Jude loved his family, he really, really did. 

The sun was steadily growing more insufferable on Jude’s neck as he made his way across campus to the auditorium. He was alone in his endeavor, considering Taylor was scouring the buildings for Connor to walk with and Daria was already waiting for him in the theater. First rehearsals were always the worst, half the time was just spent explaining the show itself and getting to know each other. Jude liked _work,_ he liked to make productions come together from scratch. He was in the business to create things from the palm of his hand. Musicals frazzled Jude’s mind like nothing else, but watching everything come together under his instruction made everything worthwhile. This was his final year of conceiving a show and he’d be damned if it wasn't his best one yet.

The theater was on the brink of riotous when Jude entered. 

Ms. Mayes wasn't anywhere to be found, so he assumed his role as second in command. 

“Hey! Quiet down!” He attempted to shout over the cast.

They were all in a lump on stage, chattering and whooping over something. _Toxic_ by Brittany Spears was playing over the sound system and somebody was - 

_Oh._

In the center of the stage was Connor Stevens, Danny Zuko himself, busting out _Magic Mike_ worthy strip tease moves in his khaki shorts and Ralph Lauren polo. A couple of freshman girls from tech were giggling to the side. Taylor and Daria were no better than them, fanning themselves from the side of the stage.

Jude bit down on his lip because, okay, what the hell? This was a _musical,_ not a strip show.

(he also bit his lip because Connor could _move_ and that stupid grin on his face was confusing the hell out of Jude’s emotions) (he dismissed it as hormones because as the saying goes, the show must go on)

Jude turned around and made his way backstage, where somebody’s iPhone was connected to the aux cord.

So of course, being the killjoy he was, he unplugged it and walked on stage with the phone.

The cast had undergone a change in mood completely, everyone silent. Even Connor was frozen mid floor grind, eyes wide. 

“In case some of you have gotten the wrong impression,” Jude coughed, “This is Grease, not a burlesque show.”

With that, Connor stood up and walked over to claim his phone. He kept his eyes down except for the very last second when he met Jude’s gaze and murmured an apology. 

Connor joined the rest of the cast where they sat in the seats below. 

Jude walked to the middle of the stage, God, this was more awkward without the actual director.

He was irked at Connor being so improper on the first day of rehearsals. If he kept that up, Jude would never be able to get through this (and not because it was attractive, because it was annoying). Aaron would never dare be this unprofessional, if anything he would have everyone doing some improv by now. But Jude was stuck with a cheeky, show offish male lead and he’d be damned to hell before he gave up on a show of his. 

“Uh, seeing as Ms. Mayes isn't here yet..” He started. 

A cackle came from the other side of the stage, “Honey, I’m right here.” Ms. Mayes came into view, retying her violet printed scarf into her hair. 

"I’m your director, Ramona Mayes, and you’ll be seeing a lot of me from now on.” She said, bumping her hip against Jude’s.

“First thing’s first,” She began, pulling her glasses off, “Please save it for _Born To Hand Jive,_ Connor Stevens _._ ”

The cast broke into laughter and Connor snorted.

“That’s my name, baby, don't wear it out.” He drawled, smirking.

Oh, so the kid read his script. 

Connor blew a piece of blonde hair out of his face and winked. He was Danny Zuko in the flesh, for sure.

Jude hated him for it. 


	3. chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me so long to finish and its kind of shit but i had a birthday and a beach trip so.. here you go!

Somehow, Connor managed to become progressively more annoying throughout rehearsal (if that was even possible). He was talented, obviously. The whole cast loved him and he probably wasn't actually  _that_ awful. Jude, however, couldn’t stand him. 

He had a colossal ego, which okay, in all technicality that was part of his role. But still.

He had managed to flirt his way through have the cast, which Jude deemed extremely inefficient. He’d swept Ms. Mayes off her feet, literally. They had been less than fifteen minutes through the second rehearsal and Connor had just plucked her off the ground while doing a run through of  _Alone At A Drive In Movie._

Jude had a schedule, an order to follow, and Connor had cast everyone’s attention away from anything decorous. As a free spirit, Ms. Mayes had never been too keen on discipline, but Jude worked differently.  

“Oh God, we’re never going to get anything done.” He muttered when Connor began crooning out  _Hopelessly Devoted To You,_ spinning Ms. Mayes idly across the stage. 

Throwing his clipboard to the ground, Jude exclaimed a, “Hey!” and clapped furiously.

The stage shifted into muted tones, looking over at Jude. He would most likely become the mundane director, but at the moment couldn't be bothered to care.

Drawing in a breath he continued, “Can we please get into a circle?”

Ms. Mayes smiled sheepishly and walked to join Jude center stage. 

“Darlin’, I’m sorry. I just got carried away.” She said.

He seriously doubted she was older than him sometimes. Nonetheless, Jude sighed and nodded. 

Ms. Mayes clapped her hands together and demanded everyone’s attention. 

“Yesterday we got to know each other and read over a couple scenes,” She paused to pull her glasses lower and scour the cast, “So today we’re busting our butts.”

A few people whooped and cheered, including Connor of course. Jude rolled his eyes.

Ms. Mayes went into a full director state of mind, spitting out orders like it was her job. Which, yeah, it kind of was. She was getting them in position for the first scene, which was a dance number. There were many directions it could be taken, Jude convinced her that loud and rhythmic was the best option.

He couldn’t dance for shit and that was his biggest flaw. Ms. Mayes had tried to teach him many times, but they always ended in a huff and with a, “Jude Adams Foster, you are hopeless.”

So while Ms. Mayes placed and rearranged, Jude busied himself backstage with googling where to buy poodle skirts in bulk. Five minutes in he remembered buying costumes was the worst part of any production. As the gay assistant director, everyone behind the scenes assumed he had a brilliant fashion sense. Those people were wrong. Jude’s fashion sense was horrendous and there was a chance he would look god awful if Mariana didn’t pick out his clothes every morning. Aside from that detail, everything was either cheaply made or overpriced and if you ordered offline, you were at risk of receiving something completely different from what you ordered. The jackets were being custom made by Eppie’s aunt, thank God. Which reminded Jude he needed to take measurements before practice was over, damn it.

He was standing to remind Ms. Mayes to send him all the Pink Ladies and T- Birds over for measurements one at a time when somebody spoke, sending an array of chills up his spine.

Jude turned around slowly, almost dreading who was behind him.

“Aaron, why are you here?” He asked breathily. Lo and behold, Aaron was leaning against a prop column. He looked dirty and extremely sweaty, so he had probably been at soccer beforehand.

“And why are you sweating so much?” Jude turned his nose up at the stench.

Aaron laughed, “It’s raining. Soccer practice got cancelled.” He stood up straight and crossed his arms.

Jude leaned to look out the window in the hallway next to him and huh, look at that. It was pouring. Once he saw it, he heard it too. The pounding splatters were loud from the dark stage.

“Why are you here?” Jude questioned again, trying to keep a straight face. 

Aaron toyed with the curtain, “Just wanted to see how the show was getting on.”

Jude snorted. When had Aaron become such a prick? How had he missed this transformation. “What’d you think was happening?” Jude asked, “Did you assume people were rioting in tears over your absence?”

Aaron rolled his eyes, “Jude, chill out. I just wanted to see if we were cool.”

Sitting down in a director’s chair, Jude pinched himself. Was Aaron serious? Was this real life? Had he been told to chill out and then asked if they were cool? What?

“Nope, we aren’t.” Jude said. Aaron’s face fell slightly before he clenched his jaw and went into badass mode. 

“Why are you so mad about this?” He seemed exasperated.

“I don’t have time for this Aaron, please just leave.” Jude sighed. It took all his willpower to stay calm.

“Jude..” Aaron said.  

“Go away Aaron.” Jude tried again.

“Please just talk to me.” Aaron frowned.

“Go!” Jude half-shouted. Raising his voice didn’t come easily, especially when it came to his best fucking friend. 

Aaron raised his hands in surrender and backed out of the theater. Jude groaned, burying his head in his hands. Aaron couldn't just walk in and expect an apology, especially in the middle of a rehearsal. Maybe Jude was being a little illogical, but he was mad. Betrayal plagued every aspect of Aaron in his mind and he really didn't have time to deal with him yet.

A single round of applause came from behind Jude and Connor walked into view. 

“Damn, that was soap opera worthy.” Connor exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart.

Jude raged with anger. He kept his lips clenched tightly though and covered his face once again.

“Like,” Connor stopped to sit down, “That was some next level  _Days of Our Lives_ shit.”

Jude looked up. He tried not to laugh, he really did. But his life felt like a soap opera and he just yelled at somebody, his best friend, to leave, so he giggled. Connor’s ever growing smile widened and he said, “See? I knew you didn’t hate me..” His voice trailed off, waiting for something.

“Did you forget my name?” Jude asked, folding his arms across each other. 

A sheepish look wiped Connor’s face and he nodded.

“I’m Jude. You might want to remember that.” Jude reminded him. “And I do hate you, no worries.” That was unusually harsh for him, but when had he been acting normal lately anyways.

If the smirk present on his mouth suggested otherwise, Connor didn't mention it. “Ouch, Jude, that stung.” He admitted. If the ever present smile suggested anything different, Jude kept quiet.

A civilized conversation with the boy who stole Aaron’s role in the most showy of fashions, who would've guessed? Maybe Jude’s judgment had been off, maybe he was being too harsh.  

"Shouldn't you be on stage?" He asked, picking at his thumb. 

"Shouldn't you?" Connor retorted, snorting.

And they were back to disliking each other.

"No," Jude rolled his eyes, "I'm ordering costumes. You're literally the lead."

Connor smiled, and goddamn if he wasn't such an asshole, and if Jude dated people maybe he would like it. But Connor seemed like a self aware dick and Jude was a pretentious director, so everything stayed the same.

"I was told to come get you, Jude." Connor said.  

He stood up silently and walked on stage, Connor close behind. 

Ms. Mayes was standing towards stage right, mid leap, obviously trying to explain the choreography. Jude was confused as to why she needed him, considering his dancing skills, or lack thereof.

"Jude, honey, can you start measuring for costumes?" She asked, walking over to a freshman and rearranging his form. 

"Yes ma'am, in what order?" Jude asked. Connor was walking back over to join the rest of the cast. 

Jude loved the opening song, especially the way they were jazzing it up. The dance wasn't too hard, so they should still be able to squeeze in a couple of scenes before rehearsal ended. 

"Just go down the cast list, please." Ms. Mayes said, trying to demonstrate a certain hip sway.

He picked up her clipboard from the front of the stage. Sandy came before Danny, praise God.

"Taylor, I need you first." Jude called over to where she and Connor were standing.

She scurried over to him. They made their way to the girl's dressing room. 

"Who were you yelling at earlier?" She questioned. 

Jude groaned, "You could hear that?”

She laughed, lifting her arms, "We all could, dumbass." Jude dug the measuring tape out of a drawer.

Drawing in a breath and measuring her waist, he answered her previous question, "It was Aaron. He came to make amends, which is bullshit." 

"Turn." He demanded, "And hold this.”

Giving her the tape, he grabbed a sheet of notebook paper and wrote a number.

Taylor played with the measuring tape and asked, "Did you?”

Jude shook his head and measured her bust. 

"I know how you get, so I won't say anything." Taylor said. She blew a piece of hair out of her eye and huffed. Jude waited patiently for her inevitable opinion.

She pulled one hand in and examined her chipped nails, "But," She started. There it was. "I think you should at least talk to him." 

"Arms down." He said, writing another measurement. 

Jude shook his head, "You know I'm not doing that." 

No part of him expected Taylor to understand where his thoughts came from. While she was his best friends, they were polar opposites. Taylor was a people pleaser that hated grudges. Jude could drop somebody faster than he could envision a scene, which was hella fast. Forgiving Aaron for choosing his soccer team over Jude would take a lot more than a talk. 

"Fine, but- oh my  _God_  Jude don't touch my butt." Taylor squeaked. She hopped away from Jude.

He laughed, "Shut up, I have to for these skirts." 

He wrapped the measuring tape around her stomach and yanked her back towards him. 

Jude got the final measurements and said, "Alright, go. Send Connor back here.”

Taylor nodded and walked out. Jude added a heading and name to the sheet of random numbers and then waited, tapping his pencil. 

Connor came in a few moments later and began shrugging his T Shirt off. 

“Woah, okay, no need for all that.” Jude shielded his face, dropping the clipboard in the process.  

Connor let out a laugh and, “No homo though.” 

Removing his hands from his eyes, Jude just looked at Connor. He looked, and looked some more. Not even at his abs, or his v line, or his extremely bulging muscles. He studied his face, which seemed to be completely serious. This boy had just said no homo to the most flaming of all the homos, and meant it in a completely serious way. All because Jude didn’t need him to remove any clothing to take measurements. 

“Connor, before you say anything else, let me tell you something.” Jude said, standing up. “The human you are talking to is gay.”

Connor’s expression faltered. He pulled his shirt back over his head and nodded curtly. 

With a sigh, Jude wrote Connor’s name on the sheet of paper and grabbed the measuring tape. 

“Arms up.” He said.

And with that, he entered the most awkward, tense silence he’d ever had the displeasure of experiencing.

 

//

 

Ms. Mayes had a dentist appointment the next afternoon, promoting Jude to head of the theater until she returned. 

Part of him was ecstatic over the newfound power he had. The other part, however, dreaded the responsibility (she wasn’t supposed to miss more than the first half hour, but whatever).

AP Literature was his last period of the day, and the only one he didn’t share with  _any_ of his friends. Taylor was gifted with math skills and Aaron, even though they totally weren’t friends, was a science genius. All the other theater people had either been placed in a different class or period. 

Jude was punctual for the most part, so he always got first pick at seats. It really didn’t matter much though, because the whole class had situated themselves the previous week and didn’t plan on moving. He walked into the classroom on his phone, sending a quick text to the  _Grease_ group chat about the director’s whereabouts.

When he looked up, dread washed over him. 

In all his douchebag glory, Connor Stevens sat directly next to Jude’s seat in the very back of the class. 

There were at least twenty seven desks in the classroom and he had managed to find himself literally a foot away from Jude, how wonderful. He made his way to his seat slowly, hoping to avoid any conversation. Keeping their already uninvolved relationship to a minimum was crucial for Jude. After the odd, and kind of offensive, no homo thing yesterday Connor had been very weird. When Jude had to measure his ass he tensed up and looked like he was in actual physical pain. After Jude had finally said he could leave, he practically ran out. That led to Jude having to go get Danny himself and Connor blushing furiously.

“You’re in here too?” Connor asked, leaning over.

Well, okay, there went the whole avoid talking thing. 

Jude nodded, placing his bag down. “I didn’t know you were.” He said.

Connor sat back, still looking over. “Yeah, I just got switched to it.”

That was the last of words exchanged between them for the next couple of minutes. Jude waited for class to start by not looking like a loser and texting Taylor furiously about Connor’s appearance in his class.

Throughout the first half of class, Jude could actually feel Connor's eyes on him. He wasn't paying any attention to their teacher at that point, his frutration was too big of a distraction.

"Do we have an issue?" Jude finally whispered over to him, raising an eyebrow.

Connor shook his head, returning his gaze to the front of the classroom. 

Their teacher was going over some project he was assigning involving one hundred quotes or lines you felt described you. It seemed easy enough, Jude would be fine. He'd read enoughscripts and heard enough songs to have quotes for a lifetime. 

"But," Mr. Johnson paused, "I want you lot to connect in your final year."

Well, shit. 

"So I want you to pick somebody in this class who you don't know well and find one hundred quotes you both relate to." He said, sitting on his desk.

Once again Jude felt Connor's eyes return to him. No, nope, he was not doing that. Seeing Connor at rehearsals was enough, seeing him in this class was worse, and Jude would not ever willingly be his partner outside of school.

With all his might, Jude willed himself to ignore everything but Mr. Johnson's voice.  

"You'll have a couple days to choose, but the sooner the better." He was saying.

Desperately Jude scanned the classroom, coming up short. He didn't care enough to find a partner but he also refused to work with Connor Stevens.

 So basically, using shorter terms, he was fucked. And it wasn't even the third week of senior year.

 

//

 

Jude had left study hall early to get to the auditorium. More than anything, he needed to get away from everyone. During lunch he'd had another encounter with Aaron. It was shorter than yesterday's, though. Aaron had walked up to Jude and asked for a word so he just walked away and surprisingly wasn't followed.

Taylor wasn't much help in his despair, what with her wanting him to get over it and forgive Aaron. In her humble opinion, the whole thing was ridiculous.

The walk to the auditorium was sweltering once again, but he had forty minutes to kill before having to deal with any other humans (maybe the janitors, but they were always nice enough). Jude blew a piece of hair out of his eye and mentally made a reminder to get a trim before Callie came home next week. She was always very strict towards him, despite the fact they now had two moms and he was almost an adult. 

The front doors were obnoxiously heavy and for a couple of years Jude had a tremendous struggle with opening them. He'd strategized finally and had a perfect hip bumping mechanism to prop them open long enough to get inside.

The theater's lobby wasn't anything flashy. There was a grand piano and a wall of trophies decorating the right half of the room. To the left there was a bench lining the wall and a desk in the other corner. A giant table and floral centerpiece sat in the middle. The sickeningly sweet smell of perfume and lemon cleaner laced the whole room and Jude had long gotten over the headache it used to give him.

He made his way into the auditorium itself, checking his phone for any new notifications. Still scrolling through Twitter, he walked to the sound booth and flipped on the lights for the whole stage.

When he looked up, Jude was met with Connor, who seemed to never keep to himself lately. 

Jude grumbled and walked out of the booth and up to the stage. Connor just sat there with his phone in hand and scrolled away. 

"What are you doing here?" Jude asked, meandered up the side stairs. 

As soon as he got home, he was going to take a nap. Not a feeble nap, but a three hour long recharging nap. Because with all the events of the day and the past two weeks, he deserved it. When Callie got home, Jude refused to be too worn out to spend time with her.

"I wanted to ask you something." Connor said, putting his phone away. He stood up and walked towards Jude.

"Rehearsals aren't for another," Jude stopped to check his watch, "Forty two minutes."

"I know." Connor said, "I was hoping to catch you before then." 

Jude cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms, "How'd you know I would be here?"

With an abashed smile, Connor scratched the back of his neck and admitted, "Uh, I followed you here."

Oh dear Lord, that was nothing less than creepy. Jude took an exasperated step back, "Are you serious? How'd you even get out of study hall?"

"Mrs. Adams Foster gave me a pass from the office. I told her I was running lines with you." Connor told him.

Great, cool, thanks mama. Just let the bothersome, and now  _stalker_  kid follow him around.

"Jesus, okay, what do you need so bad?" Jude inquired. Maybe he could just go to bed without dinner, it wasn't as necessary as some sleep. 

"I was wondering, for that literature project, if you had a-" Connor started. 

"No." Jude said. Never in the next century would he partner up with the homophobic dick who stole Aaron's role and earned the whole cast's infatuation.

Letting out a beam so aglow it couldn't have been real, Connor rambled. "Okay cool so I was thinking we could come to my house. My dad'll be fine with it-" 

Jude stopped him, "No, Connor. I mean I don't have a partner, but when I do get one it will not be you."

Within seconds his delighted face diminished and turned to stone. "Jude, why do you hate me so much? I don't get it." Connor seemed genuinely upset, okay, what?

Jude's inner four year old that had been brewing slowly took control and raged on, "Because! You don't deserve this role!" With every passing second he lost more and more self control. "Aaron should've gotten this part, but he's a complete jackass and didn't even do the play!"

He slammed his foot down and continued. Connor looked mortified and furious at the same time. His eyebrows were clenched so tightly, Jude feared they would convert to an everlasting unibrow of sorts. 

"And you told me no homo, no homo, Connor, really? You've flirted with most of the cast, distracted everyone, and it's only the third rehearsal!" Jude pointed out.  

Before Connor got the chance to speak, Jude was back at it, "It's my senior year and I'm not even talking to my best friend, I'm not even enjoying this production," He dragged in a quick breath, "and on top of that I have to deal with the most obnoxious human ever."

Jude dropped his hands by his sides and quietly finished, "I will help you be the best Danny Zuko you can be. But no, I will not be your partner."

It seemed his outburst had stunned Connor to utter silence. A whir from the air conditioning was the only sound in the whole theater besides Jude's heaving breaths. 

Falteringly, Connor walked over and slung his bag over his shoulder.

"You don't even know me, Jude. That's why we should do this project." Connor noted. A dusty pink covered both of their faces, one from embarrassment and one from exhaustion. 

Ignoring the second half of the statement, Jude meekly responded, "Let's keep it that way."

With that, Connor shook his head and walked out the side door. Jude felt like an absolute prick, and was horrifyingly okay with it.

 


	4. chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter isnt even that good or long but i swear the next chapter will return my too my fluffy roots and rot some teeth

There were very rarely times in Jude’s life where he felt honestly hopeless, but they did still occur.

The first time he was blindsided by helplessness, he was barely six years old. Mostly Jude remembered cold. The air had just began brushing wintry, yes, but that wasn't the source. He felt cold seeping from the top of his head to the very end of his toes when Callie erupted into tears. When she barely whispered that mom was dead, Jude felt chilliness biting at his insides. Her whispers inclined to screams and her quivering hands demolished her bedroom, and Jude’s teeth chattered because his sister emitted nothing but pure, icy, cold. Dad was taken off to jail, and Jude didn't know why so he shut himself down and let his heart quietly rot into something frigid. The first night in his first foster home, the heating system had yet to be repaired. The baby blue sheets in his twin sized bed didn’t warm him up or distract him from feeling rubbed raw by the brisk and biting air. Callie’s eyes froze when December hit and every quavering glance felt like a snowball with a secret chunk of ice inside, Jude looked up for something soft but was bruised by impending truth. 

The second time was a fast transition from joy. School bells had just rung for summer and palm trees were unmoving in the abundant humidity. Everyone had taken a collective deep breath in anticipation for what exciting things would happen during the break and Jude felt happy. Their foster home wasn’t exactly a good one, but it was a home nonetheless. He’d even made a few friends at his school, something that very scarcely occurred. Callie was staying for an after school pool party that afternoon, and his foster father was out running errands so Jude had everything to himself. When he’d seen one too many FRIENDS reruns, his curious nature kicked in and he set off to explore the house. He didn’t mean to stumble upon the zipped up dresses in the hall closet, but he did. He didn’t mean to reach out and thumb over the fabric, but he did. The top was a faux silk material, colored champagne, and the tulle underneath was a rough netting. It had what Jude had heard Callie call a sweetheart neckline and it looked a bit poofy. He really, really, didn't mean to slip it off the hanger and sneak up the stairs. Streaming light beamed through the window, though, and coaxed him into his bedroom. The airy blue sky persuaded him to pull the zipper up his back. This was not on his own accord, it was the universe at fault. The straps were loose and Jude’s pale, flat chest obviously made it hang a bit strangely, but it was tight on his hips and came just above his knee. When he spun and felt the dress flow around him, his heart leapt and his cheeks hurt with a grin so wide. But when his foster father walked in and spat out the word ‘fag’, complete with raging eyes, he found only himself to blame. The first strike across Jude’s face, he thought might've done something wrong. The second, he knew.

Since then, he had experienced doubt and sadness, but hadn't felt defeated with hopelessness.  
On his bed though, sitting next to a box of things Aaron had returned, Jude was surmounted with the feeling of being pointless. 

The rest of the afternoon contained a strained rehearsal, complete with awkwardly having to advise Connor. A couple of times he almost snapped and instead opted for clenching his mouth tightly shut and walking over to another cast member. After finally being let free, Jude walked outside to his car and found a good sized cardboard box awaiting him on the roof. Confusion became dread when he read the note ‘Here’s your stuff - Aaron” and opened it to find a disarray of T Shirts, video games, photos, and action figures. It took all his willpower to not sink into the pavement and melt away. They’d fought before, but not like this. Jude was looking at most of his high school years tossed into a box and it hurt. Seeing that Aaron was giving up hurt, even though Jude had been forcing him away. 

He’d shoved it in the passenger seat and hoped that he would be able to see well enough to drive, despite the water threatening to leak over in his eyes. The whole time, his heart was the lone sound in his ears, other than a threatening whisper of ‘you lost him’. So Jude turned up the radio, bit his lip, and pretended it was working.

Once he was home, he breezed past his moms in the kitchen and securely clung to the box on his hip. Was that the day Callie was supposed to be home? Jude couldn't recall. 

Usually acting like the dramatic boy he was came as comfort. Flailing and whining across his room and then wallowing in self pity seldom failed to make him feel better. But right then, coiled up in a ball, he didn’t even have the energy to open the box again, much less throw a hissy fit and move on. His room was unlit and he felt on the verge of shaking. Jude’s body was floating through the limbo of not wanting to cry and desperately needing to sob.

So maybe he did miss Aaron, but how could he expect himself not to? The boy meant everything to him, and for the past four years had been a major part of his everyday life. Aaron had even been Jude’s first male kiss, which was “practice” for Aaron and a damn epiphany for Jude. Opening the box meant having to face not only Aaron, but everything that Jude used to be. Yeah, it was a box for fucks sake, but it contained a multitude of memories and nobody had the strength for that.

Jude groaned, laying back and spreading out on his bed. His hair flopped in his face and, shit, getting a haircut completely slipped his mind. Callie was supposed to be home within the next couple of days and that was nowhere near a big enough time frame to book an appointment. Using things he was avoiding as a distraction worked pretty well. Letting his mind wander over everything, from how he needed to do a load of laundry to the english project he lacked a parter for. Through the window, hazy evening sunlight shone through the drawn curtains. Sometimes, Jude hated this time of day. It was a Friday, which should’ve been comforting. But the day was drawing to an end and even though tomorrow could bring resolution to all his problems, Friday would come to a close full of issues.

“Jude!” A voice squealed, matched to a body rolling onto his bed.

He sat up, “Callie?” Mama had told him she would be home soon, but he was not expecting her the afternoon of his mental breakdown.

“Why do you look like.. dead?” She questioned, sitting up and peering at his face in the dim room.

Snorting, Jude pulled her into a hug, “That’s all I get?” 

Callie pulled back and rolled her eyes, “It’s only been like three months since my last visit, dork.”

In the blur of everything else, parts of him forgot how much he undoubtedly needed Callie with him. Really, he’d gotten so used to her being away for college that it slipped his mind how desolate his mind felt without her around.

With a shrug, he laid back down on his comforter. 

“What’s this?”, Callie asked, pulling open one cardboard flap and looking inside.

Jude made a noise of disgust and rolled onto his stomach, letting her figure it out herself.

“Jesus, what’s up with the nostalgia box?” Callie snorted, looking through all the objects. Jude didn’t answer.

A crinkle of paper and Callie’s ‘oh’ initiated a moment of silence. She was reading the note, and clearly taking her time doing so. It was only a couple of words, so when she passed the fifteen second mark, Jude turned to question her on it.

“What the hell happened?” She half murmured. The note seemed to have somehow affected her too. Her eyes had fallen and her face looked immensely tired all of a sudden.

With a cross of his legs Jude sat up once more and explained, “He’s not doing the show because of soccer and doesn't get why that pisses me off, so we aren’t speaking.”

Callie ran a hand through her hair, replying, “From his side he probably really doesn't understand.”

That’s what most people had told Jude. Aaron was just doing what was best for his future, and would never purposely hurt him. To those people, Jude had to tediously remind them that he was upset not over Aaron skipping out on the musical (even though he totally was), but that he was upset about his very best friend choosing soccer over him multiple times.

When Jude opened his mouth to began lecturing Callie, she beat him to it, saying, “I know you’re hurt, but you shut him out for doing what he loved, Jude” 

“I still don’t want to talk to him.” Jude huffed. He hated four things in this world. Cocky people, liars, dark chocolate, and being proved wrong. In his heart, he really did feel no older than seven years old.

“But you need to.” Callie stated readily. When the creases on Jude’s face didn’t ease, she pried again. “What else is up with you?” She inquired.

Callie had a way of making everything seem simple once again. She’d taken the biggest worry in his life and condensed it to a couple sentences, and somehow made it all seem uncomplicated. 

“The lead for the play, his name is Connor.” Jude disclosed. Callie made a ‘go on’ motion and he continued, “He’s a prick and I don’t like him at all.”

“You are the king of misjudgments, Jude.” She reminded, laughing quietly.

Jude raised his eyebrows and gave a detailed (and maybe a tad exaggerated) description of Connor Stevens. As he droned on, he found himself with a very short list of reasons to hate the boy, and it became apparent he really wasn't unbearable.

“Do I even need to tell you?” Callie questioned. Jude shook his head.

Callie nodded contently and stood up. “Okay then, you know what to do.” Extending a hand, she motioned for him to follow her. “Let’s go eat, Moms made tacos.” She said eagerly.

There was a possibility life wasn’t as much of a drag as Jude thought twenty minutes prior. There was also a possibility that Callie was secretly magic with her way of comprehension.

When mom died she calmed down, and her eyes got soft again when spring peeked around the corner. She nurtured Jude and herself back to their full potential, just like their first foster mother had tended to her wilting lilies. That spring, mostly Jude remembered warmth. He remembered his first time using their foster family’s pool and the beating sun on his back. If he squeezed his eyes shut tight enough, he felt Callie squeezing aloe vera onto his burnt nose. Jude remembered warmth in the people around him. Iced tea that hadn't yet chilled, humidity in the evenings, and his bed when the air conditioner broke again were all remnants of that spring. Sitting next to these memories in his mind, covered in dust (but still bright) was hope.

//

His feet hurt and his stomach felt ready to bottom out, but Jude kept walking towards the theater. Later he would have to google the scientific reasoning behind the feeling of losing your tummy, because this really wasn't flying with him. For it not even being eleven AM, the Los Angeles weather was insufferable and Jude was desperate for some relief in the later months of the year. Last night he begrudgingly texted Aaron and asked to meet him for coffee later, which he had still yet to answer. That left Jude with no tasks except for talking to Connor, which he wanted to do less than speaking to Aaron. Callie had grilled him that morning, though, about how he should be more kind, so he really didn't have much of a choice. 

Rehearsals started in fifteen minutes, and if Connor kept up his streak of being early, that'd be enough time for Jude to catch him. Apprehensively, he opened the heavy ass front doors and walked inside. For the second time in a week, he would find himself alone with Connor in the auditorium. Also, he would find himself more engrossed in his personal life than the musical, which literally almost never happened. To the rhythmic tap of his shoes on the tiled hallway floor, Jude speculated about his nerves. Possibly it was because he was about to go back on his previous statements, possibly it was not knowing what to expect from actual communication with Connor.

Speak of the devil, Connor was sitting on the timeworn purple couch backstage with his bare feet on the wall and a laptop resting on his chest. Jude gingerly shut the door and slung his red backpack (Kånken, to shed light on his art hoe aesthetic) onto a table. At the sudden noises, Connor lifted his eyes. At seeing Jude, he shut his MacBook and made a move towards his sneakers. 

“I swear to God it can’t be eleven yet.” Connor stuttered, scrambling around. With the knowledge that his own hateful output made Connor so jittery, Jude frowned deeply. Damn, he really could use Callie around more often. Only three months without her and he’d become a grade A asshole.

“No, no. You're fine.” Jude smiled halfheartedly. His old age had really turned him bitter, and it was extra effort to turn that around. 

Connor was halfway done tying his black converse up when he wavered and stared up at Jude.  
Unmistakably struck with lack of words, he asked, “Uh, what?”

Lots of people enjoyed subtlety, even appreciated it.

Jude did not.

“I’m sorry for being a dick.” He clarified. “You deserve a better chance than what I gave you.”

Connor put his foot back down, but other than that remained unmoving. Almost whispering he said, “You yelled at me yesterday.”

Every time Connor spoke, Jude’s heart and mind wrung tighter. Childlike people usually pissed Jude off, but this boy was just shredding his heart up. Look completed with big hazel eyes and chronic baby face, Connor seemed actually four years old right then. In thirty minutes, the baby face would be sliced by jawline and his eyes would narrow with his smirk, and cheeky remarks would be left in place of the innocence, but for that moment he looked ready for his first day of kindergarten.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” Jude sighed, “I would really like to be your partner. Also, I’m sorry.” 

Connor took his precious time mulling over the request, Jude even took the liberty of sitting down and waiting for a response.

“Are you busy after rehearsal?” He finally proposed, ripping at a loose thread on his shorts raggedly. 

Before he could even think of answering that, Aaron came to mind. Most signs pointed to Aaron saying yes to coffee that afternoon. Desperately, Jude needed to make things right with him, or at least hear him out, and he refused to do that through the phone. Sliding his phone out, Jude checked briskly for Aaron’s message, which hadn't come or wasn't coming. Like any normal human, though, he had priorities.

So of course, he answered breezily, “Nope, we can drive back to mine if you want?”


End file.
